Book Summary

Ulysses S. Grant is dying of throat cancer. The Civil War general and former U.S. president was robbed by a business partner in a scheme which has plunged him from apparent wealth into heavy debt.

Surrounded by family and friends, Grant attempts to write his memoirs in order to provide for his wife, Julia, who comforts him in his final days. His daughter Nellie, victim of a bad marriage, tries to heal the social wounds between an old friend, the Seneca Indian Ely Parker, and the Gilded Age world of Manhattan's elite. They and Grant's son Fred, Generals William Tecumseh Sherman and Frank Herron, the author and publisher Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain), and other family members and old comrades try to buttress Grant's strength, while reacting in various ways to the drama of his dying. Meanwhile, Grant's writing assistant, Adam Badeau, considers his own literary legacy and financial interests.

The Last Circle of Ulysses Grant is a spellbinding tale of an American hero trying to win one last battle. Set in the turbulent last quarter of the 19th century, in bustling Manhattan, the Hudson Valley and the Adirondack mountains, the characters deal with issues of politics, race, the Civil War, Reconstruction, religion, love, family, betrayal, friendship, and the life and legacy of Grant himself. Based upon original source materials, the story is an accurate depiction of who and what filled the mind and last days of the man who saved the Union.

Reviews

"The Last Circle of Ulysses Grant, uses fictional techniques to tell the story of the General’s struggle to complete his memoirs while in the terminal stages of his battle against cancer. Further, through the judicious use of flashback techniques, the author chronicles the high and low points of Grant’s career, bringing to life for the modern reader the whole era of the Civil War and Reconstruction. Conner, moreover, in poignant and clearly written prose, introduces us to the loving family and former comrades-in-arms who surrounded and comforted Grant during his last days. Civil War buffs and lovers of historical fiction alike will definitely enjoy this fine addition to the literature on a true American hero."

Allen B. Ballard, Professor Emeritus of History, University at Albany, State University of New York; author of Where I’m Bound

"The events of [Grant's] last fourteen and a half months have been well documented, but much of the human pathos of that time can only be guessed at. As only a novelist can, Bob Conner goes beyond the historical record to give us a glimpse into the hearts and minds of the people central to that poignant story ... giving us a new way to understand the last days of one of America’s greatest heroes."

"When you walk into the Gettysburg Cyclorama and look up, you are at first startled, then awed. You find yourself literally surrounded by clashing armies. Turn 360 degrees and, wherever your eye drifts, there are men fighting, falling, dying. You are standing in the center of a titanic curved oil painting depicting the Battle of Gettysburg and, though you know what you're seeing isn't real, you're momentarily overwhelmed. As you look more closely, you realize that the amazing panorama is made up of scores of discrete scenes where blue and grey figures are suddenly recognizable as individual human beings; individual human beings doing their best to survive a moment of terror and glory.

Bob's book is like that. When you begin reading, you are almost overwhelmed by all the voices. But pretty quickly the noise resolves itself into separate conversations between and among specific individuals. And it becomes apparent that you are within a cyclorama of relationships.

This imaginary cyclorama has many layers, many expanding circles. At the center is General Grant. The first circle of personalities surrounding him is composed of family members. The next circle is reserved for his dearest friends. And so on, each successive circle belonging to people less and less intimate with the General who, just the same, were profoundly affected by him.

As Grant's life ebbs and he looks back on his successes and failures, those in orbit around him are compelled to review their own histories. Since the Civil War's end twenty years earlier, some have achieved new insights into the war's meaning, into the behavior of peers and loved ones, and into their own hearts. And some just haven't.

Within the Gettysburg Cyclorama, you are assaulted by images of violence. Within Bob's book there is no physical action, let alone violence, but there's plenty of mental and emotional turmoil as people reflect upon what was, what might have been, and why. The levels of awareness are various, but everyone senses that the death of General Grant marks, for America and themselves, passage into a new, uncertain era.

Bob was once a newspaper reporter and his writing shows it. He is able to make complex ideas and complicated incidents understandable. And he's such a scholar of the Grant years, and the people who inhabited them, that every discussion among the characters in his novel is plausible. Indeed, some exchanges must have happened in real life, just about as Bob describes them. Some of the historical figures in Bob's book will be familiar to you and some won't be. You owe it to yourself to meet, and listen to each and every one of them."

Steve Trimm, Grant Cottage tour guide; author of Saving Grant Cottage and Walking Wounded: Men's Lives During and Since the Vietnam War

About the Author

This is the first novel by Robert C. Conner, a longtime journalist who won two first-place writing awards from the New York Associated Press Association for newspapers with circulation between 50,000 and 200,000. His previous book, published by Casemate in 2013, was a biography, General Gordon Granger: The Savior of Chickamauga and the Man Behind "Juneteenth." Conner has a Phi Beta Kappa bachelor’s degree from New York University, and an associate’s degree in chemical dependency counseling from Hudson Valley Community College. He serves as a volunteer at Grant Cottage in upstate New York, and as president of the Malta Sunrise Rotary Club. He and his wife Barbara have three grown children.

"The pointed and cynical ads opposing the convention fell on fertile ground. The decades-long mantra about state government dysfunction and corruption has permeated the body politic. Conservatives and liberals agree on little else but converged on the con con proposition. It happens that the Capitol is neither dysfunctional nor corrupt. But editorials and pundits have coalesced around that meme, helped along by corrupt politicians and cynics."

Brodsky was a powerful and colorful figure in Albany, whom I found adversarial but also charming and ultimately fair in my brief dealings with him. He has proved an astute observer in his post-politics life, including commentary on scandals both in the executive branch and the Legislature (where top-level corruption is very often alleged, but convictions often fail to hold up).

Another longtime presence at the Capitol is the TU's Rick Karlin, a good reporter and guy who had a corruption story on Page A3 of Wednesday's dead-tree edition. It wasn't about one of the biggest fish, but one Navnoor Kang, "a former top official at the state comptroller's office who ended up steering $3 billion in pension fund investments in return for bribes of cash, designer watches, ski vacations, cocaine, strippers and prostitutes." Kang was "Comptroller Tom DiNapoli's director of fixed income and head of portfolio strategy at the state pension fund." He pleaded guilty last week to conspiracy to commit securities fraud and honest services wire fraud.

And how did Kang wind up in a job where he could do this? According to Karlin, DiNapoli asked that question and produced a report which said "the Korn Ferry headhunting firm who helped bring in Kang in the first place didn't know that he had been fired from his previous job in 2013 at Guggenheim Partners for accepting bribes as well as breaking that company's ethics and compliance rules."

Nothing to see here, folks! DiNapoli, as far as I know, like Brodsky, is not personally corrupt, unlike the previous comptroller, Alan Hevesi, who went to prison. DiNapoli, too, is a former assemblyman, and like Brodsky voted term after term to re-elect as speaker Sheldon Silver, who was later forced out after being indicted on corruption charges. (Silver was convicted, but the verdict was overturned on appeal, and he will likely be tried again.)

It was Silver and his tightly controlled Assembly majority (including Hevesi's son) who appointed DiNapoli as comptroller in the first place. DiNapoli seemed pleasant enough but woefully unqualified (as the pre-conviction governor at the time, Eliot Spitzer, pointed out). So why is he the sole trustee of the state pension system? Isn't that asking for trouble?

All the pols named so far are Democrats, members of the dominant party in New York state. But in the more evenly balanced state Senate, most Republican as well as Democratic leaders have fallen foul of the law in recent years -- although, like Silver's, their convictions have mostly been overturned.

The point of Karlin's story and this blog post is not about DiNapoli and partisan politics. There is currently an effort in Congress to rein in President Trump's power to start a nuclear war, and it is going nowhere because the Democrats are in the minority. But whatever you think about Trump, it is actually crazy to give any president the automatic power to destroy the world, without any checks or balances. The system should have been reformed to curtail presidential power in this regard after the end of World War II, or at least after the Cuban missile crisis of 1962. But nobody from either party did anything, just as nobody does anything to reform the systemic problems leading to the corrupt state of politics in New York (and, to be fair, in plenty of other states).

August 17, 2017

I link to the TU piece by investigative reporter Brendan Lyons, which led Sunday's paper, in my latest Ballston Journal news story. It covers the supervisor's response and other political tensions in town. (A different Times Union reporter, my old friend Wendy Liberatore, has also been paying attention to Milton, and was at Wednesday's meeting.)

July 04, 2017

A huge crowd showed up last night at the Mabee Farm on the south side of the Mohawk River on the second stop of the Albany Symphony's westward tour (it started Sunday at Jennings Landing on the Hudson in downtown Albany, and is now heading up the Erie Canal). It's the 200th anniversary of the canal, and the 300th of Handel's Water Music, an 18-minute version of which starts off their free nightly program. The second part is a different contemporary piece at every stop, then they wind up with some "Americana" (including a wonderful singalong of Fifteen Miles on the Erie Canal mashed up with the Handel theme), and fireworks (celebrating the 241st anniversary of the USA).

Tonight, they're in Amsterdam's beautiful Riverlink Park. Go early to walk the new pedestrian bridge over the Mohawk, and catch the pre-show by Alex Torres and his Latin Orchestra (rooted in Amsterdam and Puerto Rico, and my favorite Capital Region band). Wednesday, the Symphony performs in Little Falls, then westward on other stops to Lockport.

June 21, 2017

With my old friends Charlie Goodding, center, and Boyd Bates, on June 15, 2017, in Alton, Missouri (photo by Pearl, a relative of Boyd's, in front of her house). That's a long way from home, but is sort of connected to this post from last year about an icon in an Albany church of Dorothy Day, co-founder of the Catholic Worker. I first met Charlie at the Catholic Worker farm in Tivoli, in New York state's Hudson Valley, in 1974, along with Andy Chrusciel. Two years later we moved along with Andy's girlfriend Dedie Warner to some land next to the Mark Twain National Forest, several miles northeast of Alton.

In-between, at the Catholic Worker farm in 1975, there were softball games filmed by Tom Hughes and Agra Skandijs, a compilation of which has shown up on YouTube. Tom and Agra are in the movie, along with many others such as Marijo Gosiak and Terri Antholzner, Charlie, Andy and me. I think I first appear briefly in a poncho at 3:18 in a play on first base, and later hitting in a checked shirt, joking with Andy and running backward at the end.

My trip west was mostly research for a new book (not related to the CW), but on the way back, after visiting Charlie, I stopped by the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky, where Dorothy Day's friend Thomas Merton was a monk. I went on to visit another old friend whom I had met at the CW farm and who now lives in Charleston, WV, Johannah Turner (sister of Tom Hughes), and complained to her about the vandalistic 1960s "renovation" of this graceful old Abbey church:

And in Charleston I sang Tantum Ergo in the Basilica Co-Cathedral of the Sacred Heart on the feast of Corpus Christi, and argued benignly with Johannah about various matters, including Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address, which I admire more than she does. The week before, after walking the site of the Battle of Westport in what is now Kansas City (part of the book research, which also took me to the Asthabula Public Library in Ohio and to Linn County, Kansas, and last fall to South Carolina, Georgia and Florida), I went in to Mass at the Spanish mission-style Church of the Visitation. On the way home I stopped at a Days Inn hotel in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, picking up copies of The Citizens' Voice, which brought me back to union days of the late great Jack Wallace and his newspaper publisher joke.

My longest friendships were made at the Catholic Worker. But it was good to come home, too, to my wife of almost 33 years:

And here's a photo from 1974, I think, in Manhattan, with Johannah Turner and Kieran Dugan:

And finally, in 2012, here are Ed Turner, Bob Steed (a onetime monk at Gethsemani), Tom Hughes and me (along with Agra in the second picture) in 2012, at the Maryhouse Catholic Worker memorial service for Rita Corbin and Daniel Bliss. I last saw Andy not long before that at Rita's 80th birthday party in Vermont. Since then, he and Tom have both died. Requiescant in pace.